The Tangled Webs We Weave
by GrumpySunshine
Summary: Anthony Masen is killing Bella Swan. Can Edward Cullen save her? Cannon couples. Slightly OOC. Rated M for mature themes
1. Chapter 1

Rain streamed down continuously, pushing the old windshield wipers on my poor car to work furiously against it. Wind bombarded the side of my red truck, trying to tip it over, I was sure. My hands gripped the wheel at ten and two, eyes strictly on the sleek pavement before me. Why I chose to live so far out of the city, I don't know. I was practically begging to be killed out here trying to get to and from work every day.

The freeway was empty except for me; the idiot who just had to drive home in a storm. My best friend, Alice, always warned me that she'd skin me alive if I got myself killed in a car accident. She loved me.

Alice lived with her husband, Jasper, in a small apartment in the city. Chicago was just a stepping stone, I remember her telling me. Alice wanted to travel and see the world, Jasper dependably at her side. They were making plans to tour Asia over the summer. Alice had already been to Brazil and China, but that wasn't enough for her. She really wanted to live.

I was content with Chicago. Intense weather and cute accents was enough adventure for me. I had come to Chicago when I was eighteen and attending college. I majored in business and accounting, taking a smaller English Lit. course to suit my own interests. I was lucky enough to have been able to merge my knowledge to my future job. I was the proud owner of a small bookstore in the city. I had frequent customers and all of the modern, best-selling books. I kept track of stocks and managed the money myself. I had a few employees work for me, but they were teenagers and were always hired and fired around the clock. Not that all of them were bad, but most had moved on to bigger and better things.

No matter. My bookstore was my haven and my baby. I loved my baby.

I had closed early today, trying to beat the storm before I got caught in it on my way home. I was never one for good luck.

My eyes flickered to the radio. I usually had it playing, rather loudly, whenever I was in the car, but I was too afraid to turn it on tonight. My grip on the wheel tightened. _No accidents_, I told myself sternly. _No accidents_.

The red tail lights of a car far in front of me came into view. The car was nothing more than a blurry spot against my windshield, but I was glad I wasn't alone on the highway. I let out a silent sigh of relief.

Calming down, I methodically went over a mental checklist I had formulated over the day. I was running low on groceries, and if I wanted to keep myself from starving, I would have to go shopping sometime soon. My apartment, sadly, was a mess that I was not looking forward to cleaning up. Work papers were strewn all over my small dining table, clothes littered the floor in my room, and dishes had piled up in the sink. Alice always nagged me about being as organized at home as I was at the store. She told me if I didn't get my place in ship-shape condition soon, she'd disown me. But that has yet to happen, so I've got my fingers crossed.

The red lights from up ahead were getting bigger; the car was obviously slowing down to accommodate for the weather.

My mom, Renee, had left me a message on my voicemail, and I had yet to call her back. She'd probably have a heart attack if I didn't do that soon. Renee would have more time to call me now that Phil's baseball season was over. The two of them were staying at home this summer in Florida for some down time. Renee was already trying to convince me to go down there and visit her, but I'd used my store as a deterrent to her whining.

The vague outline of the car in front of me was beginning to become more apparent.

I should probably call Charlie while I was at it, just to see what he was up to. My dad wasn't one for lengthy conversations, so that call wouldn't last long at least. He never was one who liked to sit and reminisce. I thought back to my mom and stewed on that conversation for awhile . . .

Yeah, I'd call her tomorrow.

I got braver as the minutes ticked by in my car. My hands loosened on the wheel, and my fingers tapped rhythmically against it. My head bobbed slightly as I sang quietly to myself.

Up ahead, the car driving in front of me started to sway from side to side. My eyes narrowed at the driver, wondering what in the world he was doing? The car kept in the lane, but rode on the lines more often than not.

Was he drunk, I wondered, panicking for a second. I couldn't be driving in the middle of a storm with a drunk driver right in front me!

Without warning, the brake lights flared to life, and the car made a high pitched screeching noise. The car spun sickeningly off to one side, its front now facing me. I watched in wide-eyed horror as the car turned onto its side.

I slammed my brakes, jerking harshly against the seat belt.

The car tumbled off the side of the road, flipping over once, twice, before coming to a landing with its tires in the air. It rocked back and forth, tires spinning slowly in the air.

I couldn't feel my knees and my hands were shaking. I steered my car to the side of the road, quickly unbuckling my seatbelt and tearing out of the car.

Rain pelted my face and shoulders, soaking through my clothes and making my hair stick to my face. I stumbled through the grass to the car, looking for any sign that anyone in the car had gotten out alright.

The lights inside the car were still on, illuminating the ruined interior. The windows had shattered on impact, shards of glass glittered darkly around the wreckage.

_Oh my God . . _.

I stood there, staring dumbly at the upturned vehicle.

_Oh my God . _. .

A movement in the front end of the car caught my eye. It continued on, and a bloodied hand reached forward, grabbing for something in front of it.

Right around then some of my common sense kicked in. I rushed over to the car, getting down on my hands and knees, sticking my head through the space where the windows used to be.

"Hello?" I called out above the rain.

The driver had twisted around and was lying on his stomach. His breathing was hard and ragged. Blood coated his arm and part of his shoulder. He was spread out on the roof of his car, his legs stuck up under the dashboard of the car where the gas and brake pedals would have been.

"Sir?" I asked anxiously. I couldn't feel my insides. _Oh my God_.

Slowly, his head rose. His green eyes locked with mine and my breath hitched. Blood trickled from a cut on his forehead and smeared down his cheek. His copper brown hair was a mess and sticking up in every direction. His outstretched arm was muscular with impressive biceps to boot. The rest of his body, even though it was hidden at the moment, must have been at least half as masculine as his arm was.

I can't believe I blushed. He needed a paramedic and I was too busy swooning to get him the proper help.

"Sir, can you get out?"

He was dazed and just seemed to stare at me.

Cautiously, I crawled forward into the car. "Come on," I encouraged him, gently forcing my hands under his shoulders. "We've got to get you out of here."

He was practically limp beneath my hands and I had a terrible time trying to get him to even shift his position.

I gritted my teeth together, barely able to fold my hands together behind his broad shoulders. "Okay," I grunted, "tell me if I hurt you."

I wiggled backwards on my knees, scraping them on the broken glass as I went. The driver clung to me with his bloodied arm. It was wrapped tightly around my waist, and his fingers dug uncomfortably into my hip.

I attempted pulling him back with me, straining to pull his weight after me. He hardly budged and I whined. We were going nowhere.

His right arm reached out and landed palm down beside my knee. His fingers snaked around until they gripped the back of my knee. I froze at the contact, becoming stock still as his hand became tighter around my lower thigh.

"Uhm," I stuttered, not moving.

With a sudden grunt, his arm around my waist tightened and he pulled roughly at my thigh. I almost threw myself onto my back to keep myself upright. My grip around his back slipped and he almost fell flat on his face.

But he had moved. Using me as leverage, he had managed to pull himself farther out of the car.

"Good," I said a little shakily. "Good job."

His breathing was labored and his head hung limply from his neck.

I scooched farther backwards, the rain dropping on the back of my shins and rear-end. I had to to lean forward to keep my arms around him. "Just a little more," I encouraged him. "Just a little farther."

He grunted in acknowledgement, his fingers tightening painfully around my leg again.

After repeating the pull-shimmy-pull-shimmy technique we had created, we finally had him out of the car and drenched in the rain.

Quickly, I flipped him over onto his back, checking to make sure he hadn't hurt himself anymore on the way out. I breathed out a sigh of relief when everything seemed to be in working order.

I leaned over his face, blocking the rain from him. "Sir?"

His lashes fluttered and pulled back slightly to peer up at me. "Sir, can you breathe?" He stared at me for a minute and I started to panic. I opened my mouth to ask him again, but he nodded tiredly, his eyes still on my face.

I sighed with relief. "Oh good. That's good. Do your ribs hurt?"

His answer came quicker this time and he shook his head no.

I nodded, slapping my jean pockets for my cell phone. I tugged it out and flipped it open, dialing nine-one-one.

It rang three times before the dispatcher picked up. "Uhm, yes, I'd like to report an accident. No, I - I just witnessed it. One and he's a little banged up. The five freeway heading south. Where? Umm, just after the . . . uh." I strained my neck around, searching for a traffic sign. "The . . . just before the Chapman Avenue exit. Yes. Bella Swan. Thank you," I told them earnestly before hanging up the phone.

I leaned back over, once again blocking the rain from the driver's face. "The ambulance is on its way," I informed him, the relief nearly tangible in my voice. I brushed at the water droplets on his cheeks, avoiding touching the blood from his small wound. "They'll be here any minute and have you stitched up in no time."

I reached up and smoothed the wet bangs from his face, fussing with them and trying to keep myself busy at the same time. My hands were shaking uncontrollably and my heart felt funny.

"You'll be okay," I reassured him, my voice shaking. "Everything will be fine."

His eye lids were half-hooded, his green eyed gaze still locked tiredly on my face.

"Is there anyone I can call?" I asked him. "Anyone who needs to know where you are? Do you have a cell phone? I can find it, if I need to. Does anything hurt too badly? Do you think anything's broken?"

I trailed off when I noticed his lip curling up into a weak, crooked grin. His palm turned up against my wrist and squeezed gently. "Calm," he instructedly quietly.

The velvet in his voice dazed me for a moment. I shook myself, forcing a short chuckle through my voice box. "Calm. Right."

Of course I was calm. I just saw a car get overturned in front of me, am killing my nerves waiting for an ambulance and am probably going to catch pneumonia from the storm. But no, I was calm. Calm was my middle name. I was born calm. Calm was second nature to me. Being calm was as easy as breathing. Calm-

"You're fidgeting," he murmured, drawing my attention away from my internal rant.

I brought my hands back to my body, letting them hover between us. "I'm sorry," I apologized immediately. "Did I hurt you? I didn't hurt you, did I? Are you okay? Where do you hurt?"

His soft laugh was cut off by his sudden fit of coughing. After he had given me a heart attack and seemed to be just as fine as he could be, he tried to smile again. "Calm," he repeated himself.

I didn't say anything, and for a while, the only noise came from the slapping of water against pavement and the _whish_ing of the wind. The driver closed his eyes, letting his head fall back onto the soaked grass. His hand was still resting against my wrist.

"I own a bookstore." He opened one eye, staring up at me. I turned to stare off down the road, heat pooling in my cheeks. I still felt jittery and I didn't like just sitting here. If he wasn't going to talk, he could listen. If he had his eyes open, at least I knew he was alive. "I opened it up a couple of years ago, a while after I graduated from college. I bought it in town, towards the east side where the mall is." I peeked down at him to find both of his eyes were opened now. I pretended to pick at something on my wet, jean-clad thigh. "I used to live in Arizona. I spent my summers in Washington with my dad, but I haven't been there in a while."

Red and white lights appeared in the distance and my hopes perked up. I looked down at him and smiled. "You know, my dad's a cop. I've never seen him turn on his cruiser lights though. Not ever."

The fire truck was the first rescue vehicle to reach us. An elder firefighter dressed in his fire proof, yellow jump suit rushed over to us, a black first aid kit in his hands. He dropped to his knees and looked over the driver, picking out an assortment of things from his kit. I leaned back, trying to stay out of his way.

"Are you with him?" the firefighter asked me, his voice loud and urgent.

I shook my head no, my eyes wide with worry again. "He-he's alone. I pulled over when I saw the accident. It's just him . . ."

The ambulance pulled up along-side another fire truck. A police cruiser came to a noisy stop behind all of the other vehicles. A cop stepped out, making his way over to the three of us.

"Are you with him?" the cop demanded.

"No," I repeated myself. "I-"

"I'm going to need you to step back, miss," the cop interrupted me.

I glanced down at the driver. His green eyes were open and looking back up at me. "But-"

The cop leaned down, grabbing my elbow firmly. He lifted me easily, ignoring the driver's firm hand on my wrist.

"Sir, you need to let go," the firefighter told him, stitching the gash in his head. "I need you to stay still."

His grip didn't waver.

Three paramedics came over, carrying a stretcher.

I bent back over, addressing the bronze-haired driver. "You'll be fine. They'll take care of you. The paramedics will take you to the hospital and everything will be fine."

"Miss," one of the three paramedics came over to me, "are you hurt at all?"

"No, I'm fine-" I tried to reassure the man.

"Her knees." We both turned to see the driver as he rasped out his statement. "She cut her knees," he took in a breath, "getting me out."

The paramedics glance landed on the tears in my jeans that flared around my knees. "I'm afraid I won't be able to see that clearly," he trailed off at the end, contemplating to himself. "I'm going to have to ask you to come to the hospital with us as a precaution."

"But I-" I started to panic, my eyes darting about.

"While you're there I'll need to ask you some questions," the cop interrupted me again. "I'll just need your name and a signed statement from you."

The driver's fingers squeezed my wrist and I stared down at him.

Calm.

"Yes. Alright. I'll go. Do you mind if I make a quick call first?"

"Do you have a cell phone?" the paramedic asked.

I swallowed. "Yes."

"You can call in the ambulance. We need to get him there immediately."

"Oh. Well, yes, of course."

I watched as they strapped the driver down to the stretcher. As they loaded him into the back of the ambulance, the paramedics working over him and checking for any serious injuries, his gaze stayed on me.

I was ushered into the front of the ambulance. I buckled myself in safely and dialed the familiar number on my cell.

"Alice? It's Bella. I need you to come pick up my car."

* * *

**Alright, let me know what you guys think so far. I'll try to update this one as soon as I can, but Tough as Nails is my priority at the moment. I'll update both when I can.**

**Thanks for reading my story!**

**-GrumpySunshine**


	2. Chapter 2

The last time I saw my green-eyed driver was when they carted him through the emergency entrance to the hospital. Despite the paramedics' insistence, I refused to let them put me on a gurney. It's not like_ I _was the one involved the accident. So they rushed me as quickly as they could to one of the nearest exam rooms. They sent for a nurse to check my condition, and, much to my relief, she announced that I was not in need of a doctor.

For the past fifteen minutes or so, my poor nurse had been bent over with pliers in hand, removing every shard of glass stuck in my torn skin. I winced every now and then when the metal tips dug too deeply. My nurse, Mrs. Stebbins, would smile apologetically up at me, but continue with her work.

"That was a brave thing you did for that man," she said, continuing with our conversation. "Who knows what condition he would have been in if you hadn't helped him."

My cheeks warmed slightly at her praise, but I shook my head. "It was kind of stupid, actually. I mean, what girl tears up her knees trying to get someone out of a car? I couldn't even pull him out by myself. He did most of the work."

She smiled kindly at me. "I'm sure that's not how he sees it."

I picked at the lint on my damp shirt, not certain how to respond. "Do, um, ... do you know how he's doing? The driver, I mean. Is he okay?"

"I can only give that sort of information to a family member, hun," she said, eyeing my knee for any pieces of glass she missed.

"Oh," I said lamely, trying to hide my disappointment.

She stood up and patted my shoulder. "Don't worry too much, sweetheart. I'm sure he's doing just fine."

"Yeah," I agreed quietly. "He didn't look that bad, you know? Just a little banged up. He was bleeding some, but that's probably nothing a few stitches couldn't fix, right?"

"Of course," Mrs. Stebbins affirmed lightly - noncommittally, if I was being honest. "We've got some good doctors working here. They'll have him taken care of." She turned from where she was rummaging through one of the cupboards. I balked at the needle she held in her hand, my stomach rolling at the thought of _that_ breaking through my skin.

Mrs. Stebbins gave me a sympathetic look. "It won't hurt much, sweetheart. You'll only feel a pinch, and before you know it, it'll be over."

"Right," I grumbled to myself. I had gotten enough stitches in my life to know that the pinch she spoke of was more like a bite. From a dog. Like a pit bull.

I started to breathe heavily through my mouth, my eyes trained on the ceiling above me.

Mrs. Stebbins sat back down on her small swivel chair, her needle making quick work of the holes in my leg. I closed my eyes, trying to ignore the push and pull of the needle sewing my skin back together. Of their own accord, my thoughts flew back to my green-eyed driver. Despite having been thrown head over heels in his own car, his eyes had been the most piercingly perceptive things I had ever seen. Could that even be possible? Maybe I only thought that because my mud puddle eyes were so flat . . .

"Isabella Marie _Swan_."

I cringed at the familiar voice. My shoulders hunched slightly and I threw a pleading look at the elderly nurse stitching up my knees. "Please tell me visiting hours are over."

"I'm going to pretend like I didn't_ even _hear that Isabella Marie."

Chagrined, I kept my head bowed slightly and looked up at the now occupied doorway.

Alice was four feet of seething fury. Her black, spiky hair was flattened on one side, and Jasper's old college sweatshirt was sagging off of her small shoulders. The thing practically fell past her knees, and I couldn't tell if she was wearing shorts underneath it. She had a pair of fuzzy, pink slippers on her feet that were scuffed a little at the toes. The fluorescent lights glinted off the huge diamond on her ring finger, and Mrs. Stebbins paused in her stitching to admire it.

I gave her sheepish smile. "Hi Alice."

"Don't you 'hi Alice' _me_, Isabella," she snapped, stomping her way into the room. "Do you even have the _slightest _clue as to what I went through because of your stupid, little, cryptic phone call? You need me to pick up your car? At the site of an _accident_? What the hell, Bella?! And then I have to find out from a paramedic who doesn't know his ass from his elbow that you're in the _hospital_?!"

"Alice-" I tried to explain, but she wasn't done ranting yet.

"Do you even know what _time_ it is? You're lucky I even picked up the damn phone! What did I _tell_ you about driving all that way by yourself in the middle of a storm? What did I say about living that far away from your job? Didn't I _say _there'd be trouble? But _no. You_ just wouldn't listen to me!"

"Alice, I wasn't involved in the accident-"

"Then I have to wake up poor Jasper -and you_ know _how much sleep he loses over his job already- to get him to take me over to pick up your dinosaur, so that I can take it home for you -like the _best friend _I am- and do you know what happened?" She raised the delicate eyebrows on her face, as if expecting an answer, before she exploded with, "I had a heart attack is what happened!"

"Alice, I'm really sorry -"

"And poor Jasper has to go all that way to take your stupid car home, so I can rush to the hospital, because no one would tell me if you were dead._ No one, _Bella. I had to threaten the receptionist at the front desk to even get your damn room number!"

"Come on, Alice," I begged. "You know I'm so sorry about all of this. Please stop yelling at me?"

"Yelling? You think _this _is yelling? Are you hurt?" she demanded.

My traitorous eyes flickered to my freshly stitched knees. "No-"

"Liar!" she shrieked. "Isabella Swan, you could have _died_out there tonight and I wouldn't have even known until I woke up in the morning to the goddamn voice mail from the hospital!"

"I don't think hospitals leave voicemail-"

"And then what, Bella?! What would I have done?! I would have had to cancel all my plans for Asia this summer, so I could plan your_ freakin' _funeral. And you _know _how _pissed_ I would be if _that _happened. I would dance on your grave site and not feel an ounce of guilt. Not. One. _Ounce_."

"You're my best friend, Alice," I said, trying not to make it sound as cheesy as I knew it was, "and I love you."

A whoosh of air left her lungs, and she practically deflated in a couple of seconds flat. Her big, puppy-dog eyes teared up, and suddenly she was throwing herself at me; her tiny arms crushing my shoulders and forcing me down to her height.

"Don't ever do this to me again, okay?" she sniffled loudly next to my ear. "You scared the ever loving life out of me."

I squeezed her back, trying to shift my knees off to one side, so she wasn't pressing against them. "I know, and I'm _really_ sorry, Alice. Things just happen, you know?"

"Yeah, but only _these_ things ever happen to _you," _she teased, pulling away to wipe under her eyes with Jasper's sleeve.

I grimaced at the truth behind her words. "Sorry."

"Don't be," Alice said, smiling at me. "Hospitals and you go together like peanut butter and jelly."  
I glowered lightly at her. "Thanks."

She laughed then, the noise making her look just as pink and fluffy as her slippers. "Jasper's worried about you, too," she told me. "I promised I'd call him after I knew everything. Do you need me? I'll only be five minutes."

I grinned at her blatant lie. She was never on the phone with Jasper for _only _five minutes. "Go call your hubby," I told her, carefully sliding off the table. "I've got paper work to go fill out anyway."

"I'll meet you at the front desk then," she said happily. "After I take you home, I'll fix us a giant pot of coffee."

I tilted my head curiously. "You know I don't like coffee."

"Oh, I know," she chirped, dialing Jasper's number on her phone. "But Jasper and I do." With that, she turned and skipped her way out the door.

"I've never seen one like her come around here," Mrs. Stebbins chuckled softly.

"She's definitely one of a kind," I agreed. "Thanks so much for everything, Mrs. Stebbins. Wish me luck?"

"Luck? With a cop? Honey, I'll not only wish you luck, but know you have my sympathy."

I felt my shoulders drop at the last part of her sentence.

"Come on now," she said lightly, ushering me out of the room. "I've got other patients to fuss over. You go take care of crossing your T's and dotting your I's." She pointed down the hall and sent me on my way.

The cop waiting for me in the waiting room wasn't the same one from the scene of the accident. He was blond, and had surprisingly boyish features. He couldn't have been any older than I was, but I doubted we were the same age.

"Miss Swan?" he asked me, his blue eyes brightening just a bit. "It is a _Miss _Swan, right?"

"Bella," I corrected him, crossing my arms.

"Bella," he repeated. "It means pretty or something, right?"

"Um, yeah," I answered him awkwardly. "So do I just sign the statement and I'm good to go?"

"It suits you," he said, completely ignoring my question. "I'm Mike Newton, by the way. It's a pleasure to meet you." He held his hand out for me to shake.

. . . right.

"Listen, Mike," I started, trying not to be rude. "It's late, and I really just want to get this over with so I can go home. My friend's waiting for me and she has to work in the morning. Do you mind if I just make my statement so I can go home?"

"Oh. Right," he said, his expression dimming a bit. He pulled a clipboard from under his arm and handed it to me. "Just write down everything you saw and describe it as best you can in your own words. Then sign it at the bottom and you're all good to go."

"Thank you," I told him sincerely, quickly scribbling a brief list of everything that happened.

"So what were you doing on the road at this time of night? Visiting someone?" I glanced up at his personal questions, narrowing my eyes just a bit. "Your boyfriend, maybe?"

I sighed impatiently down at the clipboard. "No, I was not visiting anyone. I was coming home from work."

"Where do you work?" he asked, getting nosy.

"In the city," I answered vaguely, signing my name at the bottom with finality. "Thanks again, Mike. Have a nice night."

"Wait!" he said, putting a hand on my shoulder to stop me from turning around. "You're a real interesting girl, Bella. Do you maybe want to get a cup of coffee with me later? I've got a day off tomorrow. Maybe we could see a movie. Have dinner or something?"

"I'm sorry, Mike." I tried to sound honestly apologetic, but my annoyance with this boy just kept growing. "I'm just not feeling okay, what with everything that happened and all. I have work tomorrow anyway."

"Maybe some other time then?" He sounded too hopeful. "Can I have your number? I can call you-"

"Bella!"

Relieved, I spun around to look towards Alice's voice. She bounded lightly to my side and latched onto my arm.

"Jasper misses me. We have to go now." She pulled on my arm as she spoke, and half dragged me behind her to the door.

I waved once over my shoulder at Mike, but didn't spare him a second glance. I looked wistfully back at the front desk, wishing that they could have at least told me if my green-eyed driver was okay, or even his name. I bet it was as amazing as his eyes.

"Don't dawdle, Bella," Alice snapped as the automatic doors parted for her. "We can't keep Jasper waiting."

I laughed from behind her. "Sorry, Alice. What was I thinking?"

"You were thinking you owed me a shopping trip after picking your sorry ass up from the hospital and saving you from Casanova back there."

I shook my head, not bothering to correct her. I wondered if I'd ever stop thinking about my green-eyed driver's copper hair, or how warm his hand felt when he was holding on to me.

I highly doubted I would.

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**Thanks to everyone who reviewed! I'm glad you're enjoying the story so far :)**

**And I want to send a big thank you to my Beta Irritable Grizzzly for reminding me that its "i before e except after c" I'd be lost without you!!!**

**-GrumpySunshine**


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